


Impressions

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Vernon Dursley/male - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-03
Updated: 2010-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the boy's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> For [info]writerpuppy, who is evil and requested it. She wants to see if my head will explode.

It was, Vernon decided to himself with a sharp nod, all the boy's fault. He was certainly not to be blamed for the perverse thoughts in his head. _He_ did not put them there. The *boy* put them there. The boy, with his wild hair and too-loose jeans and his T-shirts that seem to fit just a bit too snugly. Vernon had been aghast when he'd gone to pick the boy up at the train station from that _school_.

"Where did you get those clothes?" He eyed the boy suspiciously, looking at the way the jeans and T-shirt fit. At the way the runners weren't worn-down. At the way the boy's hair was still the same mess it has always been. When the boy hadn't answered, Vernon had puffed out his chest. "Well?" He had not appreciated the loathing stare he'd gotten in return.

"Shrinking charm."

Vernon had not known how to respond to the reference to magic. His attention was diverted by the way the boy's shirt rode up as he stretched his arms. "Into the car. And keep that damned owl quiet."

And now, here he was, three weeks later, alone in his office thinking of how the boy had given him perverted thoughts of T-shirts and runners and messy black hair. It was enough to throw the boy on the street. It was a disgrace, what that boy brought home from that *school*. Vernon would bet-not that he did bet, it was a nasty, disgusting habit-that the boy had used some of that mumbo-jumbo they taught at that _school_ to trick him into thinking about such unspeakable things.

Not that Vernon was one of those people that belittled others because of what they might do in their private time. Oh, no. Not even a little. He was a tolerant man, friendly and genial, and he allowed for other people's *indiscretions* as long as he didn't hear about them. And if he heard about them, well, it was his place as a person to be allowed to say something. He was not against those _indiscretions_ happening, he was against the knowledge of those _indiscretions_ getting out.

"Hello, Mr. Dursley."

Vernon looked over at his office door. "Hello, Michael." Michael was the mail boy. Michael habitually wore jeans and T-shirts and runners. Michael had somewhat messy dark brown hair. The *boy* had caused Vernon to think of Michael in a less-than-professional way. The *boy* was a terrible influence on everyone, Vernon decided. "Any mail, Michael?"

"Yes, Sir." Michael reached into his pushcart and picked up a stack of envelopes held together with a rubber band. He walked across the office and handed them to Mr. Dursley. He touched the back of Mr. Dursley's hand as he stepped away. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Vernon was not sure if Michael was looking at him with some sort of intent or not. He'd never had anyone look at him with any kind of intent. Petunia had *never* looked at him with intent. Petunia had accepted his marriage proposal because she was of that age, and he had been of that age, and she wanted to pretend she didn't have a sister that went to such a crazy *school*. "That's all I need for now, Michael."

"Okay." Michael stepped away from the desk and walked back to his cart. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Dursley." He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

Vernon was not sure what that smile meant. He pushed it out of his mind-as he pushed many things out of his mind-and opened his mail.

*

Petunia started the wash on Friday morning by double-checking Vernon and Dudley's pockets. She left Harry's pockets alone. If he hadn't learned to check his own pockets, she wouldn't coddle him into remembering. She found four notes from girls-how cute that they still teased him with 'leave me alone'-some change, and some notes from his math class written on very tiny pieces of paper. She paused in her pocket sorting to add notebook paper to her grocery list.

In Vernon's pockets she found a piece of Gunnings stationary folded into a small square. She opened it.

_Mr. Dursley-_

It's a **pleasure** working with you.

Michael, **your** mail boy

Petunia read the note again and smiled a little. How nice that Vernon was impressing the young men at his workplace. He should be commended for his ability to bring such devotion from his employees.

Petunia tucked the note into her apron to give to Vernon when he made it home.


End file.
